


Noche Buena

by JoAsakura



Category: X-Factor (Comics)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-24
Updated: 2009-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-05 04:58:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoAsakura/pseuds/JoAsakura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: While they're traveling around Mexico, Shatterstar admits that he's never really understood the whole "Christmas" thing. Rictor attempts to explain (some knowledge of Mexican traditions would be preferred -- or research!) what Christmas means to him, but it's been a while since he really celebrated and meant it. But somehow, they manage to work it out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Noche Buena

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Iambic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iambic/gifts).



Zacatecas, Mexico. December 24.

Shatterstar was scowling. He'd been scowling since they'd left Nochistlán a day ago.

It wasn't, Rictor noted with marginal relief, his "I must kill something now" scowl. No, this was the "I do not understand something" scowl. Which, while better in terms of property damage and time spent evading the local police, was harder to manage in most ways.

At least "I must kill something now" was easily managed by pointing 'Star at gunrunners and drug lords. It could also, as Rictor had intimately learned, be quickly sublimated into "let's have sex instead."

"I do not understand something" was harder. It usually involved uncomfortable conversations about uncomfortable topics.

Rictor parked the beat-up truck they'd picked up a few weeks back on one of the cobbled side streets and turned to his passenger. "Ok. What?"

'Star's jaw worked as he looked around at the pastel-hued buildings, squinting up at the tinsel-glittered decorations that hung between them, sparkling in the late-day sun. "What what?" he finally said in that aggravatingly noncommittal tone he took when he was trying to work through things on his own and failing badly.

"You've got that look, amigo," Rictor said, sliding out of the car and stretching his back. "What's buggin' you?"

"It's nothing, Julio," 'Star finally said, stretching as well. Unfortunately, when 'Star stretched, pedestrians dropped their packages and Rictor winced as he thought he heard a sudden screech of brakes behind them.

"Ok, be that way." Ric rolled his eyes. 'Star would eventually tell him. He always did. "Look. So, we're gonna be staying with my mom's cousin's husband's grandma, ok? Do you remember your cover?"

'Star's scowl transformed into an eloquent eye-roll that indicated resignation, annoyance and a tinge of indignation. "Yes, Julio." He sighed dramatically and recited in a monotone. "My name is Benjamin. My mother is on your father's side of the family in Mazatlan and was gotten pregnant by some Swedish tourist. Yes, this is my real hair. Yes, this is a birthmark. No, you may not touch either."

"Which is easier than explaining you're a mutant and an alien, ok?" Ric smirked at him. "And the swords?"

"I will leave my swords in my duffle bag, Julio. I will not, under any circumstances leave them elsewhere." The scowl returned in force. Nearby, on one block, they could hear children singing. On another, disco music leaked out into the street from a busy restaurant. Cars, people and buildings all around seemed to heighten whatever was irritating the redhead.

"I know, I know," Rictor soothed. They needed to lie low for a bit- things had become a bit heated back on the ranch to the south where they'd disrupted a huge shipment of arms- and hiding in plain sight in a crowded and festive city like Zacatecas had seemed the best plan. "It's ok."

Plus, Rictor thought, Christmastime meant lots of tamales, and 'Star had developed a keen taste for them, so really, Ric was doing this all for him and what was with the power-scowl, anyways?

They were standing on the steps of Rictor's mother's cousin's husband's grandmother's house with the pink stucco and the neatly planted window boxes when 'Star turned to him. "I am confused by this Christmas," he blurted out in the space between Rictor _*thinking_ about pressing the doorbell and actually doing it.

"Damnit, 'Star," he started, only to find himself face to face with a tiny, round woman with a prodigious frown. "Ah! Tia Abuelita! It's me, Julio?" Rictor flailed and started the familiar song-and-dance of introducing them to yet another member of his vastly extended family.

It always went down the same way, he'd noticed. Rictor would spend a few agonising moments desperately attempting to remember the names of people who he'd mostly never met. This would go on for as long as it took the other person to notice Shatterstar looming behind him.

There was always that beat, when he saw the look on their faces and then 'Star would smile. It wasn't the shy, secret smile that would break across 'Star's face when he saw something that genuinely moved him or when he thought Rictor wasn't looking after they kissed. No, it was something wider, brighter and to Rictor's mind, just vaguely unnerving.

What was also unnerving was the telemundo-perfect way he introduced himself. Since Rictor had been able to convince him this act was not only for their safety, but the safety of the civilians, Shatterstar had taken on the role of Julio's fourth cousin once removed with the lousy, no-account turista father from Sweden with distressing gusto.

When all was said and done, Rictor's relatives would invariably let them in. He'd never quite been able to determine if they found 'Star charming or if they'd simply been stunned into acquiescence by what was essentially a very large predator showing a whole lot of very white teeth, asking politely to be let into their home.

Regardless, Rictor's mother's cousin's husband's grandmother shuffled them in, the house already full of laughing people and delicious smells, and told them they could have the corner of the floor in her sewing room, because frankly, that's all that was left in terms of space.

~~~

In the relative peace of the crowded little sewing room, 'Star sprawled out on the hard floor, hair spreading out behind him like a corona in the fading light that slanted in through a high window.

Rictor started down a decidedly blasphemous mental path about very sexy and somewhat wrathful celestial creatures when someone's stomach grumbled loudly.

'Star made that little amused snort that passed for laughter with him and Rictor grinned, shoving a bolt of fabric aside before straddling the bigger man and looking down into those pale eyes. "Ok. So, hunger issues aside, because I think Tia Gabriella's not gonna let us into the kitchen, what was this about Christmas?"

"Where is Santa Claus?" 'Star asked him with all the seriousness of a trial attorney. "There are some decorations, but there was no Christmas tree downstairs. There are no images of Santa Claus in any windows we passed. I have not heard "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer" on any radio station we have listened to. This does not correlate with previous holidays we have spent with our team-mates."

Rictor blinked. "Oy. Ok, remember how I said TV doesn't always accurately reflect reality? "

"Yes, for instance, 'Rock of Love' or 'Celebrity Deathmatch'." 'Star nodded, his hands absently coming to rest on Rictor's hips as the other sat back.

"Ok. So, Mexico's primarily a… a Catholic country. You know what Catholic is, right?" Ric toyed with the worn edge of 'Star's flannel shirt.

"A branch of Christianity. Which is one of the primary Earth religions. Christianity, Judaism, Islam- which are all Abrahamic religions and are most prevalent in the Western nations and the Middle East. Buddhism and..." Rictor cut him off with a sharp tug on his shirt. 'Star would go on all day rattling off information he'd learned on the Discovery channel if given the chance.

"Right, right, so, you're used to Christmas in the states. Here it's kinda more about the baby Jesus thing than the Santa thing, mostly." Rictor shrugged.

'Star's eyebrows flattened into an almost comical line. It made him look like a pissy cat. "Does the 'baby Jesus' bring presents?"

Rictor tried not to grin. "Ah, kinda. I mean, family members give little kids presents tonight, but the kids mostly wait till Three Kings Day in January to get something."

"January? Fekt," 'Star grumbled. "That is a very long way away."

Ric couldn't help himself and he shook his head, leaning down over 'Star with a laugh. "Why, you afraid Santa's not gonna find you in Mexico?" He pressed a kiss to the end of 'Star's nose.

"Julio. I am not concerned about being stalked by a fat man in a red suit. I am just trying to understand why there are differences," 'Star mumbled before lightly flicking Rictor in the forehead. "It just seemed…" he trailed off, bringing his big hands up to cradle Rictor's head, raking his fingers through the dark hair. "What is the meaning of this... of this season?" He wasn't scowling anymore, just searching Rictor's face for answers.

In response, Rictor bent down low and kissed him until Tia Gabriella's voice echoed from downstairs for them to get cleaned up and join everyone at mass.

~~

Mass, at the beautifully baroque Church of Santo Domingo, was an autopilot affair for Rictor and a curiosity for 'Star, who spent most of the service looking around at the gilt-covered carvings.

Ric watched him out of the corner of his eye as the Mass wore on into the night. Damn Shatterstar and damn his "I do not understand something" scowl. It had gotten Rictor thinking about things other than their normal routine and he resented that.

He could have explained the religious background to Christmas that he'd learned as a kid, but that didn't take into account similar seasonal holidays from other religions or even just secular gift giving, all of which he just _knew_ would come up. No question with Shatterstar was ever answered easily. So. What did it _mean_?

It bothered him all the way back to Tia Gabriella's and all through the mountain of food that the noisy knot of his family set about consuming.

It wasn't until he glanced over; sometime after the tamales and turkey and slightly before food-coma set in, that he realized what it was.

'Star was crouched down in front of the Nativity scene, putting himself on the same level as two young kids- distant cousins- as they took each figure carefully and told him a story about it. He gave them his full attention, like a warrior should, Rictor thought with a smile.

During the long summer days, the sharp contrast of 'Star's scarlet hair and his pale skin had mellowed together with an overlay of pale gold. Now, in the dark, laughing crowd of Rictor's family, he was a still, shining figure.

Ric felt his chest clench up, just a little, and excused himself from one of his cousins, grabbing a few beers. "Hey, Ben?" he asked, tapping 'Star on the shoulder. "Can I steal you for a sec?"

"Of course, Julio." 'Star straightened and gave the children a perfunctory nod. "They were telling me some fascinating stories."

"I'm sure they were." Rictor handed him a beer and led him up the stairs and away from the crowd. "So, anyways. I figured out the answer to your question."

'Star took a sip, winced, and stared at the beer before focusing on Rictor. "And what is that?"

"This season. Christmastime. What it means." Rictor took a long pull on the bottle. "It's about being with the people you care about. It's about finding joy. It's about remembering what's really important." He set the beer down and bumped his shoulder against 'Star's. "It's about finding a light in the middle of those long winter nights and knowing that's home."

Shatterstar bumped him back. Rictor couldn't see his face, but he had a feeling that shy, secret smile was there. "I think I understand. Merry Christmas, Julio." He nosed his way through Rictor's hair to place a small kiss on the top of his head.

"Merry Christmas, 'Star." Rictor murmured. The warrior was warm and solid, and Rictor felt himself drowsing off with one big arm wrapped around his shoulder, pulling him against 'Star's chest.

And just before he dozed off, he thought he heard a low, pleased whisper.

"And since we are in Mexico now, you must wait until Three Kings Day for your present."

And all Rictor could do was hope, in his sleepy way, was that whatever it was, it wasn't perishable.

 

END


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